


Catch and Release

by Safaia



Series: Questionable Work Ethics [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-03
Updated: 2011-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23920171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Safaia/pseuds/Safaia
Summary: Arthur and Eames work well together now and Arthur could not be happier. Their relationship isn't complicated and that's the way he likes it. It doesn't stay that way for long though.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Series: Questionable Work Ethics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698910
Kudos: 4





	Catch and Release

**Author's Note:**

> The third fic in a series of Arthur/Eames universe which needs a name. Any ideas? The first two are Questionable Work Ethics and Battle Scars respectively and there are references though I guess they can be read alone. There is one more after this.

Over the next year and a half Arthur worked with Eames two more times. Each job was a little different, some much more dangerous than others, but at this point it seemed like he had reached an impasse with the forger. They would bicker and fight, exchanging all sorts of verbal barbs, and in the end nothing else seemed to come from it. Eames no longer actively tried to get him alone or invade his personal space. It seemed like they were at a half decent stalemate when it came to their relationship. There were still hints that there was something else going on between them. Every now and then Arthur would catch Eames watching him with that intensity that he had grown far too familiar with. They would make eye contact, Eames would grin and that would be the end of it. Arthur also caught himself watching Eames for a little too long and he had to practically slap himself to start paying attention to his work again. It was annoying but the amusement he got from the banter made the distractions worth it; it was not often that he was able to go home and say that he had had fun at work.

A lot changed in the next year and a half though; Cobb began to lose his grip on reality and Mal began to appear more and more. Arthur could feel ghost pains from incidents when the projection had killed him and he did his best not to think about it too much. By the fourth job, however, Eames seemed to notice that something was not right. He narrowed his eyes the moment he was introduced to an architect when Cobb had built for them in the past. Instead of keeping out of Arthur's space now he was always in his space and hounding him with questions.

“I thought our dear Cobb was more than capable of building dreams for us. Why the change, darling?” Eames asked.

“Cobb needs to focus on the extraction and this is the best way to do it,” Arthur lied but he could tell that Eames did not believe him. The forger definitely did not believe him when he found Arthur bleeding out in the middle of the job.

“What the fuck happened?” Eames asked and he visibly winced when he saw the wound.

“Projection caught up with me,” Arthur said and when he coughed he tasted blood. The statement was not a lie, Mal was a projection, she was just a vindictive projection.

“I can see that,” Eames said and he put some pressure on the wound. The pain was enough to make Arthur's veins feel like they were on fire but he did not show it.

“Has Cobb gotten the information?” he asked.

“I got him in and the rest is up to him. He'll give us the musical kick when he's out. Until then though,” Eames trailed off.

“Until then I can't die or the dream will collapse,” Arthur said and the forger did not say anything. Instead he sat next to Arthur as he lay there on the ground and shot at the projections. Not until they heard the sound of Edith Piaf singing through the dream did Eames place a gun to his temple and put Arthur out of his misery. He felt pain in his stomach for days.

This was their fifth job together and Cobb had called in Eames to forge the twin sister of their mark. It was going to be a hard forge to do because twins were the closest kinds of siblings. The sister was also the only person that the mark would feel comfortable opening up to. Their employer was the half brother of the mark who suspected his brother of selling family heirlooms without consulting his siblings. Their architect, a woman named Debra, a rail thin woman in her late twenties with thick rectangle glasses and long black hair, already had the first level done and was in the middle of the second one. Arthur was in the middle of the research trying to find every last detail he could about their mark and Cobb was trying to hide the fact that he was essentially going out of his mind.

“So what's going on, Arthur?” Eames said about two weeks into their job.

“What are you talking about?” Arthur asked but he felt a lump form in his throat; Eames only called him by his real name when he was being very serious about something.

“I mean the fact that a projection got to you again today and the dream collapsed,” Eames said and he was moving so he was right in front of Arthur's face. “Said projection doesn't seem so keen on making sure that you die quickly though.”

“Sometimes they get creative; it happens,” Arthur replied but he did not look up because he knew that the lie would be evident if they made eye contact.

“That's some massive bullshit if I ever heard any,” Eames said and there was a certain level of venom in his voice. “You do realize if you die on the second level this entire job is going to go up shit creek.”

“I wasn't aware, Eames, thank you for reminding me,” Arthur said and he looked up from his work so he could meet the forger's eyes. “Why don't you focus on the sister instead of hounding me? Can't have any flaws in your forge or we might be up 'shit creek' to quote you.” Arthur knew that he was being particularly nasty right now but this was the only way he could think of to get Eames to drop the subject.

“This conversation isn't over,” Eames said and while he walked away Arthur believed every single word that he said.

The night was drawing to a close and Debra said that she needed some real sleep before she went out of her mind. Eames mentioned something about getting 'completely pissed' and named some small pub a few blocks from the hotel they were all staying at. When he said the name Eames looked directly into Arthur's eyes and the point man knew that it was a very large hint that was being placed in front of him. He debated not showing up and pleading ignorance but Eames would never buy that; the forger knew that while he was not great with people, he did not miss details.

“Are you going to be able to do this job?” Arthur asked Cobb after Eames and Debra were both gone.

“Why wouldn't I?” Cobb asked but he did not look at Arthur when he said it.

“Oh I don't know; maybe the fact that your projection of Mal decided that she wanted to shoot me in the back during our practice run today,” Arthur said and Cobb stiffened.

“Look, I said I was sorry, okay?” the extractor said but he still did not turn around when he spoke.

“If she causes this job to go wrong you're the one that is going to have to answer to the employer and the more I learn about him the more I think he’s the vindictive type,” Arthur warned.

“I'll handle it, okay?” Cobb said and he finally turned around. “Everything is going to be fine; trust me.” Cobb stared at him like he was expecting some sort of response, probably some variation of 'I do trust you,' but Arthur was not going to have any of that.

“It better be,” Arthur said and he walked out of the office with his jacket over his shoulder. As he walked back to the hotel Arthur contemplated not going to the pub that Eames had hinted at and telling him to fuck off the next morning when confronted about it but there was enough tension in this job. The last thing he needed was to add to it. So he joined Eames at a booth in the corner far away from anyone who could hear them, ordered a beer and shot and decided that drinking the night away sounded like a fantastic idea.

“So are you going to tell me what's going on?” Eames asked.

“I'm going to tell you that everything is fine,” Arthur replied, the whiskey burning his throat as he downed it.

“And I'm going to call that total rubbish,” the forger replied as he took a drink of his beer. “I have a feeling that you're not going to tell me I’m wrong either.”

“Glad we're on the same page,” Arthur mumbled and he decided his beer was infinitely more interesting so he nearly jumped when Eames' foot brushed against his ankle. This was the first time they had touched since that job a year and a half ago. The point man decided in that moment that he was not going to let Eames get to him tonight so he locked gazes with the forger as if accepting some sort of challenge. Whatever competition they had going now Eames smirked and did not move his foot. They stayed like that for several hours before Arthur was having trouble feeling his teeth and decided that going to sleep was in his best interest. He noticed that Eames was feeling a little more than happy as well and that the last person he should be drunk with was this man considering their history but this job was taking a toll on his nerves.

“Whatever is going on I have to ask one thing; is this going to affect the job?” Eames asked as they walked side by side toward the hotel.

“It shouldn't,” Arthur replied honestly and immediately he blamed that on the four shots of whiskey he had just consumed. “Don't worry though, your neck will be just fine.”

“I care about your skinny neck too you know,” the forger replied and Arthur glanced at him briefly. It was not the response he was expecting and it made a lump form in his throat. “After all, it's not very often you find someone in this business you can consider a friend.”

“You consider me a friend?” the point man asked a little bewildered.

“Naturally, darling. I don't go out for drinks with people I consider co-workers only; it makes for extremely dull conversation,” Eames replied and then he looked very thoughtful. “Though I supposed that if I wanted someone who wasn't dull I should have picked someone who doesn't have a massive stick up his ass.”

“Very funny, Mr. Eames. And don't call me that,” Arthur replied and he punched the forger on the arm playfully. He felt relaxed, just a little more, and the rest of the walk to the hotel was filled with just their normal sort of bickering. They pushed and pulled each other, they laughed and steadied one another when someone stumbled. It was nearly two in the morning by the time they got to the hotel and the girl running the front desk sent them death glares as they walked through the lobby at such an early hour. They were both on the floor where their rooms were when Eames took Arthur's arm.

“Thank you for joining me tonight; it would be have been terribly boring if I had to drink alone,” he said.

“Thank you for dropping the hint. I didn't realize how much I needed to unwind until those four shots hit me,” Arthur replied and smiled just a little. Eames did not take his hand off of his forearm though and Arthur made no move to shake it off; he just stood there in front of his room. He was not sure what happened next, later he would blame the alcohol and being way too relaxed, and he still did not know who reached for whom but the next thing he realized was that he had Eames' collar in his fists and they were kissing. The forger had a tight hold on Arthur's upper arms and they seemed to be holding each other in place. It was not a desperate kiss or one that was entirely passionate either; it was like they were trying to test each other. When they broke the kiss they both took a step back and Arthur tried to regain his composure; he did not want to go down this road again. He liked the relationship he had with Eames at the moment and he did not want to complicate it.

“I will see you in the morning, Mr. Eames,” Arthur said as he opened the door to his room.

“Yes, in the morning, drink a glass a water before you sleep,” Eames replied.

“You should do the same; I don't want to see what a hungover mind looks like,” Arthur said and Eames grinned at him. The point man closed the door and leaned against it; this was a mistake no matter how he looked at it. Absolutely nothing good could come from having a physical relationship with Eames, nothing, and he repeated that to himself over and over like a mantra as he fell asleep but not before drinking a large glass of water.

The next morning Arthur's head hurt a little and he took a painkiller before going downstairs. The hotel offered complimentary breakfast and food sounded like the best possible way to try to fend off this impending hangover. If their final runs today were ruined because he was hungover Cobb would probably skin him alive. So he ordered eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast before adding a cup of black coffee on top of it. It was the hangover cure that had worked for him in college and he saw no reason as to why it would not work now. The coffee came first and Arthur held the hot mug in his hand like it was something sacred. He had just taken his first sip when he saw Eames walking toward him.

“Good morning, darling, how are you feeling?” he asked, taking a seat at the table without asking if it was okay that he sat down.

“Don't call me that, I'm pretty good, how about yourself?” Arthur asked and he did his best to remain neutral.

“Walking a fine line at the moment; I don't think my body has quite decided if it wants to be hungover yet,” Eames said and he ordered some food and coffee as well. The two of them sat in silence eating and avoiding eye contact. If Eames wanted to talk about the kissing incident from the night before he did not mention it and Arthur was in no rush to open that Pandora's box either. So he was glad that they finished their food in silence, that they walked back up to their hotel rooms without a word and the only thing they said to one another was agreeing to go into work together. By the time Arthur was done getting ready and met Eames back in the lobby the tension was gone. The forger smiled at him and he smiled back; it felt like the last moments of the previous night had never happened and he was grateful for that.

For all of two minutes until Eames decided to put a hand on the small of Arthur's back when they walked out the door.

Suddenly every nerve on Arthur's body was on high alert. It was like someone had hit him with pure electricity and it nearly made him stop breathing. All he knew was that he could not let Eames see him like this. So he cracked his neck and forced himself to relax as Eames climbed into the driver’s side of the rental.

“You all right?” the forger asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Arthur lied.

“Hangover starting to sneak up on you, love?” Eames asked and he smiled.

“Something like that,” Arthur said. “And don't call me that.” Eames grinned but fortunately that seemed like the end of the conversation. Once they were back at the warehouse Arthur was able to focus on work. They were about a week away from the job and there was still a lot to do for which Arthur was thankful. What he was not looking forward to was more trial runs. If the thing with Eames in the real world was not enough the thought of having to watch Mal smile down at him as she made him bleed was enough to turn Arthur's stomach. So Arthur closed his eyes and forced himself to tunnel vision focus on the job at hand because letting his mind wander was just a terrible idea.

Over the course of the next seven days they did five more dry runs of the job and Mal found Arthur in the dream every single time. For some reason she seemed to prefer not to kill him but merely to inflict a wound that was not life threatening but hurt as much as possible. Dislocated arms that he had to pop back into place just so he could fire his gun properly, hundreds of small cuts that burned every time he tried to move and the times she did decide to kill him it was always Eames that found his body. The forger did not say anything but he looked like he was going to hurt someone.

Two days before the job and Arthur was lying in one of the lawn chairs unable to make himself move. Mal had put a bullet between his eyes before they decided to go under again and she put another in his heart. Now it hurt to move and it was really the last thing he wanted to do.

“I must be doing something wrong,” Debra said as she stared at her mazes. “They keep finding you so there must be something wrong with the design.”

“The design is fine, Deb. It's not your fault,” Arthur said but his voice sounded foreign even to himself. Debra was a good architect, she had the potential to be excellent, but she was twisting her long black hair around her index finger and looking worried. Arthur knew that she was blaming herself every time he died because she had it in her head that it was the design that let Mal find him all the time. It was hardly that but he could not tell her that she was not the one to blame, that it was all Cobb, because it was not his place.

“Look at you though; you look like someone wrecked you and didn't leave a mark,” she said and Arthur creased his eyebrows; he was sure he did not look that bad.

“This isn't your fault, it's mine. I just need to make sure I keep on my toes. I'll pay better attention, keep myself hidden and everything will be fine,” Arthur said even if he did not believe a word of it. In the background Arthur could hear Eames and Cobb talking in harsh voices. Eames was asking what was going on, why Arthur kept dying or getting hurt, and Cobb was dismissing him saying that it was nothing to concern himself about.

“I'm not concerned about me or you; I'm concerned about Arthur,” Eames said and Arthur wanted to sink into the chair. Debra looked at him with an odd expression before she stood.

“I'm going to get some dinner, you want to come with?” the architect offered a hand to pull him from the lawn chair and for a moment Arthur seriously contemplated taking it. Debra was a nice enough person and getting away from Eames and Cobb was probably exactly what he needed. But the steady rise in volume of the two men in the other room was enough to tell him that leaving them alone was probably not a good idea.

“I'm just going to lie here for a sec, get my bearings and what not. I'll see you tomorrow evening?” Arthur asked.

“Get some sleep Arthur; you look like you need it,” Debra said as she turned and walked out of the warehouse. Arthur listened to Eames and Cobb argue some more, debated stepping in and breaking up what might become a fist fight, when he realized he really did not want to. If anything, Arthur realized as he lay there on an uncomfortable lawn chair, head pounding from a bullet hole that never happened, that if a fight did break out he would sit back and let Cobb take a few hits to the face. He cared about his friend, he was worried about him, but he also resented the hell out of him for every single painful thing Mal did to him in the dreams.

The sound of a door opening roughly snapped Arthur back to reality as he watched Cobb stalk across the warehouse, his shoulders tight, without so much as a glance back. Arthur really did not expect much of one but that did not stop him from being any less annoyed about it.

“He's going to get us all killed.” Eames was suddenly standing next to the lawn chair and glaring at the door Cobb had just vanished through.

“We can hope not,” Arthur said and he watched as Eames sat down in the chair next to him and met the point man's eyes.

“You look like shit,” Eames said.

“Why thank you, Eames. I really appreciate your observation and opinion,” Arthur deadpanned but it sounded a lot more bitter than he intended. “Sorry, I'm not trying to be a jerk.”

“You have every right to be mad. Hell, I'd be worried if you weren't at least a little ticked off,” Eames replied. “I really am worried about you though. We can only take getting blown away so many times before it starts to fuck with us topside.”

“Trust me, I know, the ache in my chest and the pounding headache I have right now are a nice constant reminder,” Arthur replied and he rubbed his temples. “I just need a vacation or a bottle of hard liquor.”

“Well, I can't get you that vacation right away, but I can provide a very nice bottle of scotch that I'd be more than happy to share with you,” Eames said. Arthur opened his eyes to stare at the forger. He was not sure which part of the previous sentence freaked him out more; the 'vacation right now' or the prospect of drinking scotch in Eames' room. Arthur wished he saw some other motive in Eames right now, something that was a hint that the forger was messing with him or something, but Eames really just looked concerned. The pounding in his head, the ache in his chest, Arthur wanted to forget all of that. He wanted to forget a bloodstained Mal smiling down at him as he slowly died and how Cobb turned blind eye after blind eye to the projection.

“Scotch sounds great actually,” Arthur said and Eames looked positively delighted. They packed up the rest of their things, locked the warehouse up and took the rental back to the hotel. Before he could think that this might be a bad idea Arthur was in the sitting room of Eames' suite drinking some of the best scotch he'd had in a long time. “This is really good, Eames, this must have set you back a ton,” Arthur said after most of the bottle was gone.

“It was a pretty penny but I figured it might be useful someday,” the forger said. Arthur was on the couch and Eames was sitting on one of the big chairs to his left and the point man turned to see Eames watching him carefully. That all too familiar lump formed in his throat.

“Well, I'm sorry you wasted it on something as stupid as this. I'll have to buy you a bottle as payment,” Arthur said. Eames grinned at him.

“I'm sure we'll find something else at another date that either needs to be celebrated or drank away. Hopefully celebrated.” There was a slight slur to his words and Arthur chuckled. “What's so funny?”

“Just that I seem to get drunk with you a lot,” he said. “We should really find a healthier way to unwind other than damaging our livers.”

“I agree,” Eames said and there was an uncomfortable silence as they stared at each other. Arthur knew what he had implied about ten seconds after he said it and he had expected something lewd out of Eames but the forger said nothing of the sort. The job was in two days and tomorrow evening they would put the plans into motion where they would catch the mark and dive into the mazes. The last thing he needed was to be distracted and there was nothing more distracting than Eames. Even in the haze that followed from being mauled by Mal the forger was still distracting and in that moment, through the haze of excellent scotch and weeks of banter and good conversation, Arthur decided that it was time to get this distraction out of the way. That was why he set his drink aside. That was why he moved over on the couch and gestured for Eames to join him. “If you need help back to your room, darling, all you need to do is ask,” Eames said as he sat down next to Arthur though they still were not touching.

“I think I'm good,” Arthur replied. Eames was about to make some snarky comment, Arthur was sure of it, and that was why he decided to shut the forger up. The kiss was hard and heated and the point man could feel the tense surprise in Eames as soon as their lips met. He was sure the forger was trying to break away to ask something or tease or do something but Arthur was not in the mood for that. Instead he wrapped his arms around Eames' neck and as soon as their bodies touched Eames finally relaxed. It was the same as every other time they kissed. It was intense and electrifying and it easily could be as addictive as dreaming. Their body weights shifted and Arthur let Eames ease him onto his back. Now the memories of their last physical encounter came flooding back and Arthur arched his body against Eames because they had danced around this for two years. When Eames bit his lower lip Arthur felt no shame when a low groan escaped from the back of his throat.

“Arthur,” Eames said and he sounded breathy.

“I swear to god if you make some sort of smart remark I am going to castrate you,” Arthur said and he yanked Eames back down into a rough kiss.

“Arthur, seriously,” Eames said after he pulled away again.

“I can't believe you're the one hitting the brakes,” the point man said with a groan. “Was all of your flirting and trying to make a move on me just idle threats?” Eames creased his eyebrows and for a moment looked legitimately hurt.

“Why would you think that?” the forger asked and he leaned down to kiss a line along Arthur's neck. “I'm more worried about this being some drunken romp and the last thing we both need is for you to hate me for allowing drunken you to do something sober you wouldn't.” The feeling of Eames' breath as he mouthed the words against his skin was enough that the point man could not form a coherent thought.

“You want this to happen when we're both sober?” Arthur asked and Eames moved away so they could stare at each other.

“And risk you blacking out on me? Wouldn't dream of it,” he said and Arthur hit him on the arm hard enough that it would sting. “Besides, I somehow think my imagining you naked is going to muck up the dream a lot more than some unresolved tension.”

“I hadn't thought of that,” Arthur confessed and he had to admit that he agreed on several points. He did not think for a moment that he would pass out but if unresolved tension was a distraction he did not even want to picture what a physical memory could do to their work. “While I do agree on some of your points, Mr. Eames,” he said and Arthur rolled his hips so he ground against Eames and the way the forger's pupils dilated and his lips parted made Arthur smirk, “I really don't feel like moving either.”

“While I'd love to continue to make out with you, darling, there is no possible way I can keep touching you and not end up ripping your clothes off,” Eames said and he had that intense and serious expression on his face.

“I never thought you would be the one talking me out of sex,” Arthur said and he started to sit up. Eames stayed close though and the forger was nearly in his lap when he was vertical again. He studied Eames carefully but the forger’s face was completely blank. Arthur was fairly sure that it was intentional so he did not let it bother him. “Later, we are going to finish this later.”

“Looking forward to it, darling,” Eames said with a grin and he stood up pulling Arthur to his feet. They both walked toward the door and Eames yanked him in for a rough kiss as he was about to leave. “Until next time?”

“Don't call me that and you can start a countdown if you'd like, Mr. Eames,” Arthur said grinning beneath the forger’s lips and his breath hitched in his throat when Eames bit his lower lip with just a brush of teeth.

“Consider it started,” he said and Arthur was not sure how they managed to disentangle themselves from each other and close the door but he was grinning to himself like an idiot when he managed to collapse into bed. The job was early the morning after next and he planned to sleep in nice and late. It would take a majority of the night to snatch the mark and get the rest of the job ready. If all went according to plan by noon the day after tomorrow they would all be considerably richer and able to do as they pleased. Arthur snorted as the statement ran through his head as he changed into more comfortable clothes. The sheets felt warm and soft as he fell on them and Arthur fell into a dreamless sleep with a smile on his face.

The mark's name was Ivan Feyh and he was the son of a multimillionaire that had suddenly passed away. He had a twin sister, Rebecca, and a half brother Jerrod Stark. Stark was their employer and the man made Arthur a little nervous. Employers generally fell into two categories when reacting to a botched job: there were the ones that cut off all connections to them and waited for it all to fade away and those who tried to wipe everyone who ever knew about it off the face of the earth. People who hired extractors were desperate people when all other methods had failed. Stark seemed like the kind of person who would take the failure and burn all of the evidence even if that evidence included a few human lives.

Their plan was simple and complicated at the same time. They were working with two dream levels and no matter how many times they did this it always made Arthur nervous. They had to hire outside muscle to watch over them while they were in the dream and he only wished there was some way of having someone he trusted on the outside. As it sat they really did not have a choice in the matter. The plan was to snatch Feyh from his gym in the early hours of the morning. By the time the job was done they were going to try and pass off his sleeping as falling asleep in the sauna and escape.

In the first dream level Eames was going to approach Feyh as Stark as if the two of them needed to discuss business. Feyh would be reluctant to meet with his half brother but there should be enough trust there to give Eames time to slip him a sedative. Debra was the dreamer for the first level and she would watch over the three of them as they dropped another level. Arthur was the dreamer for the second level, which was where the real work began. Eames would come to Feyh as his sister Rebecca and introduce Cobb as a lawyer she had hired. She would tell him about how she suspected Stark was the one stealing the heirlooms and Cobb would use the conversation to talk Feyh into projecting his secrets into a file as he denied all of it. There was no evidence that Feyh was militarized or even aware of dreaming so Arthur had no reason to suspect otherwise.

That did not stop Arthur from obsessing over the job and getting very little sleep again. He felt fortunate that he did not have to be awake until the early hours of the following morning. It was Cobb's idea that they spend the day relaxing before the job though Arthur was positive that Cobb was not going to do that. So the point man dozed in his bed until the afternoon, he took a long shower and tried to watch television or get some reading done but his mind kept wandering to the job, to the details of it, to everything. Sighing, Arthur gathered his things and changed into a comfortable but formal suit. As much as he liked being as dressed up as possible he wanted to be able to move freely if something went wrong topside. He combed his hair back, holstered his gun and decided to get some food and spend the evening in the warehouse making sure he hadn’t missed any details.

What he was not expecting was to find Cobb asleep in one of the chairs alone. Arthur narrowed his eyes and shook his head; going under without anyone around was not smart. There was no telling if something went wrong in the real world without anyone to watch his back and make sure he did not have a bad reaction to the chemicals or anything else. He wanted to kick Cobb's chair over and watch him flail as he woke up but decided against it because he would just get the 'what are you, twelve' look and he hated that look. Instead he sat at his desk and booted up his laptop. The hiss of the PASIV was not something he wanted to listen to but there was not much he could do about it. With Cobb under he did not want to risk missing something because he was listening to music. He did not look up when the PASIV went silent and Cobb stirred.

“Welcome back to the waking world, sunshine,” Arthur said without looking up.

“Arthur, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting before the job? We're going to be up all night,” Cobb said and he sounded nervous.

“I hope that 'up all night' thing was a joke,” Arthur said and he looked over his laptop at his friend. He was being watched very carefully and Arthur narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” Cobb said a little too fast.

“Debra thinks the designs are the problem and that's why I keep dying. Our architect doesn't have any faith in her designs and she's the dreamer for one of the levels. For all we know her subconscious is going to change something because she thinks it's not safe. After all, where I go projections with violent tendencies seem to follow. Any idea how we should handle that?” Arthur asked and each word he said made the extractor tense up more and more.

“Deb will be fine,” Cobb muttered.

“We need to talk about this,” Arthur insisted.

“I don't need to talk about anything with you, Arthur. Everything is fine, the job is going to be fine, so stop worrying so much,” the extractor said.

“So I should triple check our exit strategy then?” Arthur asked and Cobb glared at him which he pointedly ignored. Instead Arthur went back to making sure that they had some way to flee the area in case everything did go horribly wrong like he thought it would. When his stomach began to rumble Arthur walked out of the warehouse and ran smack into Debra and Eames.

“Sorry, darling, where are you off to in such a hurry?” Eames asked. Arthur was proud of himself for not blushing or feeling awkward about the fact that he planned on ravishing this man in less than twenty-four hours.

“Dinner time for me,” he replied. “And don't call me that.”

“You've been working?” Debra asked and she adjusted her purse over her shoulder. “Do I need to make any more changes to the second level? Is there anything you want me to add?”

“Oh stop, my dear, I'm sure the level is perfect,” Eames said and he put his arms around Debra's far too thin frame. “Arthur, I think we need to let our architect calm down before we go under, what do you think?”

“Probably for the best if you tried to clear your head a bit, Deb,” Arthur agreed.

“Is Cobb in there? Maybe he'll want to come too?” she asked and Arthur felt the smile melt away.

“I'm sure he's off doing something he considers important,” Eames said waving her off. The three of them went out to dinner and Arthur smiled as he watched Eames try to ease Debra's worries. He wanted to say that he thought their intentions were completely altruistic. Arthur did not want Debra to worry herself into the ground, she was a good architect and had the potential to be great, but he did not know her well enough to put her mental state before the job. Still, she smiled at Eames' jokes and the meal seemed to warm her over. He did not consider reassuring her that her designs were good to be stroking her ego but more reaffirming the truth. By the time the three of them went back to the warehouse she seemed more at ease and that made Arthur feel a little better. As they walked in Eames stopped him. “You were really nice to compliment her like that, darling.”

“Don't call me that and I don't compliment people unless they deserve it, Mr. Eames. Deb is an excellent architect and I don't want her doubting herself over something that isn't her fault,” Arthur explained.

“Because we both know whose fault this really is,” the forger said and Arthur said nothing. They stared at each for a moment before Arthur eased away and the two of them walked into the warehouse. Debra was gathering her things and tucking her gun into her shoulder holster, pulling on a jacket to hide it. Cobb looked up from his desk and closed the PASIV.

“How are things looking?” he asked.

“Feyh should be leaving his office by ten and we need to watch him until he leaves for the gym the next morning,” Arthur explained.

“Can we do that in shifts and maybe let the rest of the team get some more sleep?” Eames asked.

“Not a good idea,” Arthur disagreed. “We need to be able to move as soon as he leaves. The gym is private and the guy who is watching us can only get us an hour alone with Feyh. If we don't get things done in that time period we are in trouble. We need to follow him if he decides to leave for any reason during the night.”

“I'm stuck making small talk with you three all night?” Debra asked. “Thank god for ipods and sketchbooks I suppose.”

“Very funny,” Cobb grumbled. “How many cars are we taking?”

“We should take two,” Eames said before Arthur could say anything. “Park one further away from the other when we get there so we have a back-up vehicle in case we need to run.” Arthur bit his lip; he had a feeling he knew where this was going but he also could not argue that logic. It was something he had considered as well.

“Deb and I will take one car and you two take the other. We'll meet you outside the house and you'll let us know if anything changes?” Cobb asked and Arthur nodded. “Okay, if you need to sleep make sure someone stays awake the entire time so someone is always aware.” They all agreed and Arthur grabbed his laptop and they locked up the warehouse. Eames offered to drive and Arthur climbed in the passenger seat. They drove to Feyh's office and sat outside waiting for him to leave. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

“We have a lot of time to pass,” Eames commented and he sounded almost bored.

“That we do,” Arthur replied but he kept his gaze focused outward to conceal his smirk.

“I can think of several ways to pass the time,” the forger said and now Arthur grinned.

“I thought you said you couldn't do anything with me for fear of ripping my clothes off?” Arthur asked and he looked at Eames.

“Arthur, I'm offended that you think I was talking about such scandalous things,” Eames said sounding hurt but the point man just raised an eyebrow. “You should terrible memory like most people who drink too much.” Arthur scoffed and looked back out the window. He was glad that they could talk about this and not have things get awkward. Feyh left right on time and they took up their positions nearby to watch the house for the night. They talked about work, they talked about their previous experiences in the military with the dream programs, they talked about how they narrowly missed meeting each other when the program was in place and took turns catching a few hours of sleep. “You know, I can't imagine what Cobb and Deb are talking about.”

“They probably aren't,” Arthur said. “Cobb is too shut off to have actual conversations with people and Deb doesn't want to hear any of his shit. She's okay with sketching and listening to music; she was perfectly fine ignoring him when she first got here.” Another easy silence fell between them and Arthur was watching the house carefully when he saw Eames move out of the corner of his eye. The forger was closer but not quite in his personal space.

“You're going to watch your back on the second level, right?” he asked.

“I'll be careful. You and Cobb just get the information so we can get out of there as soon as possible,” Arthur replied. The front door opened and Feyh walked out carrying a gym bag. Arthur pulled out his phone and told Cobb that they needed to move. They arrived at the gym and passed the sedative on to the man they had hired inside. He gave Feyh a glass of water and the man was asleep almost as soon as he went inside the sauna. Arthur and Eames pulled him into a back room and locked the door. Their man locked the door from the inside and looked very confused as they set everything up.

“All you need to do is watch the timer and put the headphones on her when the timer says that there are thirty seconds left, okay?” Cobb explained.

“Then I get paid?” he asked.

“That's all,” Cobb said and he turned to them. “Are we ready?” Eames and Debra both nodded and looked at Arthur. If he was honest with himself he was not entirely sure that he wanted to do this job, the image of Mal smiling at him was enough to turn his stomach, but he just flashed a confident smile and nodded.

“Let's do this,” he said and he pushed the button. The chemicals flooded through his veins and as the world began to fade he looked to the side. The last thing he saw was Eames looking right back at him.

Arthur blinked as the world around him came into focus. He was standing in the lobby of the office building that Debra had built. Every nerve in his body was on edge as he scanned the projections looking for that familiar hair of brown curls and a smile that he had once found comforting. With no sign of Mal he walked across the lobby and caught Debra's eye. The two of them went to the elevator and pushed the button to take them to the fifth floor.

“I'm worried,” she said as they rode in silence.

“Don't be. Just keep the doors locked, stay away from the windows and everything will be fine,” Arthur reassured her even if he was not so sure himself and judging from the look Debra gave him she was not convinced either. When they reached their floor Eames was waiting for them and they met in a meeting room away from everyone else. Arthur opened up a filing cabinet and pulled out the PASIV.

“Feyh doesn't trust Stark much but he should let his guard down enough that you can drug him. After you drug him take him up to the top floor to find a more private place to talk. No projections are up above and that's where the bulk of the maze is,” Cobb said as he slipped Eames a sedative in his hand.

“Sounds good. I'll send you a text message when everything is done,” Eames said and he shifted into the body of their client. Debra had not worked with many forgers so her eyes always went wide when he would shift. Arthur knew that it did wonders for Eames' ego to have someone stare at him like he was the most impressive thing in the world. The forger nodded and slipped out among the projections. Arthur kept the door open just a little as he watched them move. So it seemed like they were not uneasy but as soon as they brought Feyh under they would start to get restless. The door to the office opened and Feyh walked out with Eames close behind. Feyh was starting to look a little sick and Eames asked in Stark's voice if he wanted to go upstairs and get some air. Fortunately for them the man said 'yes' and they vanished into the elevator. Arthur's phone buzzed about three minutes later and he flipped open the screen.

_Time for the real fun to begin._

“Let's go,” Arthur said and the three of them walked towards the elevator. Debra had created the maze in such a way that a straight path could take them where they needed to go but it twisted as she moved. When they got to the right floor Eames was waiting for them outside the elevator, in his own skin, with a sleeping Feyh at his feet. At the suggestion of Cobb, Arthur and Eames were the ones who had to manhandle the mark into the room.

“If there are any problems give us the musical kick ahead of time,” Cobb said to Debra as Arthur set up the PASIV.

“This is your level,” Eames whispered as they pulled out the lines. “You going to be all right down there?”

“I'll be fine, Mr. Eames, you just focus on getting Feyh to trust you and get him to trust Cobb,” Arthur said and their fingers brushed as he finished getting the device set up. Arthur chose to ignore how that made his stomach do some flips as Cobb settled down on the ground. They each put the lines in their wrists as well as Feyh's and Debra looked down at them.

“Good luck,” she said and the second wave of chemicals went through Arthur's body.

The moment Arthur opened up his eyes on the second level he knew that this going to be different from the first. The dream felt tense but he had a feeling that was more his own nerves than anything else. As he stood on the sidewalk across the street from the restaurant where Cobb and Eames were going to accost Feyh the eyes of the projections looked at him every now and then. Arthur closed his eyes and forced himself to relax and the projections went about their business. The point man walked into the building next to the restaurant and checked his gun until Cobb joined him a few minutes later. The extractor looked outside and narrowed his eyes but they did not say a word as Eames joined them.

“You two do what you need to; if things go wrong I'll keep the projections focused on me,” Arthur said as he clicked his gun into place and checked for spare rounds.

“Be careful,” Eames warned but Cobb just watched him.

“We'll try to get out of here as fast as possible,” the extractor said but what he was really saying was 'you just need to stay alive until we're done.' Arthur did not comment on the matter. He just watched as Eames switched into the skin of Rebecca and the two of them walked outside. Eames made the phone call to Feyh to have him join them for lunch and made sure it sounded like something was wrong. Feyh was there within minutes because he would rush to the side of his sister in a heartbeat. Arthur kept his distance and watched from as far away as he could. He really did not need to know what any of them were saying, he just needed to watch for anyone gunning for them.

Cobb was clearly starting to get to Feyh because the projections were getting nervous. More of them turned and looked his way and by the fifth time Arthur decided it was time to draw attention away from the mark. So he stood, paid for his meal, and started off into the city. Out of the corner of his eye Arthur could see that people were starting to follow him and he ducked off into the intricate maze of alleyways that Debra had made for him. He ducked in and out of corners until the sound of a gunshot rang throughout the entire dream and Arthur stumbled as white hot pain shot up his arm. There was a nasty through and through wound on his shoulder that was bleeding considerably. The point man looked around but he could not see who had taken the shot. Gritting his teeth through the pain Arthur kicked down one of the doors to one of the safe rooms he had throughout the maze with his gun raised. The room was dark, the windows boarded up, and it looked like a place where one would find a junkie squatting.

A shadow moved to his right and before Arthur could react the gun was knocked from his hand. Without waiting for him to get himself together again there was a punch to his face hard enough that he saw stars, another to his stomach that took the breath right out of him and another to his bad shoulder that hurt so much the edges of his vision almost blacked out as he crumbled to the ground. The entire dream shook, he knew it did, but there was no music so that meant that Cobb and Eames must not have gotten the package yet. As he blinked the spots away from his vision he was not surprised at all to see Mal Cobb looking down at him yet again.

“Arthur, as always it is so lovely to see you again,” she said standing over him, a gun pointed directly at his heart.

“I wish I could say the same, Mal,” Arthur replied. “We really need to stop running into each other like this.” She laughed but it was not the one he used to know in the real world. It was bitter and sad and made his chest hurt.

“Oh Arthur, I just want Dom to see what a mess he's made of everything,” she said. Arthur flicked his gaze to his left; his gun was not that far away and if he moved fast he could get to it. The point man kicked the projection’s feet out from underneath her and scrambled for his gun. As soon as the weapon was in his hand he felt her press the small pistol she always carried into the small of his back. “That was very rude, Arthur, so it would be in your best interests to drop that gun.” Her voice was low, dangerous and Arthur knew that Mal was dangerous in the real world when her voice sounded like that; he could not even imagine what this projection would be like. The point man tossed the gun across the room and he felt her breathing against the back of his neck. “Good boy,” she murmured before wrapping her slender fingers around his wounded shoulder, her nails digging into the wound. “You know, Dom really believes that he is the one in control here but he's not and you know it.”

“You're his projection, of course he has some semblance of control over you,” Arthur replied through his teeth because her nails were long and painted and dear god it hurt so bad he could hardly breathe.

“You know he doesn't and you also know he's just going to keep turning a blind eye to me,” Mal said and she squeezed hard enough that Arthur cried out and buckled under the pain. She threw him to the ground and stood over him as the point man tried to calm his breathing. “Dom has always been blind when it came to me.” She pistol whipped him and when he was too dazed to react she kicked his right hand away from his body and stamped her foot onto his fingers. She was not wearing heels but Arthur felt the bones in his hand crack and there was no stopping the tears because he was in so much pain.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?” Arthur asked the projection yet again, he always asked her, and she always smiled down at him.

“Ask Dom why,” she said and Mal fired the gun into his stomach. She was far too partial to him bleeding out to do the deed right away. The dream shook again but did not collapse as Arthur lay on the dirty floor once again bleeding out and too blinded by pain to try and think straight. Music filled the dream and Mal looked around smiling. “Looks like our fun is over for the day, Arthur, but I'll see you soon I'm sure.” She turned and headed for the door.

“You're just going to leave me here? Not finish it yourself?” Arthur asked barely recognizing his own voice.

“And wake you up? I'll let the PASIV do that for you. Have a lovely day, Arthur.” Mal smiled at him and vanished out the door into the maze. His right hand was mutilated and there was no way he could fire a gun. His left hand was too busy trying to ease the pain of his stomach. Arthur lay still on the floor until his eyes snapped open to see the ceiling on the first level.

“Are you okay?” Debra asked as she knelt in front of him. “You're white as a sheet and you're shaking.”

“I'm fine,” Arthur lied. “Did you get it?”

“Yes, we got it all,” Eames said but he was not looking at Arthur but more glaring at Cobb. The extractor was not really paying attention. Instead the sound of music filled the dream but Debra was still staring at him like she was so worried. Arthur let his head fall back on the floor and closed his eyes as he waited for the dream to end.

Arthur was relieved that everything seemed to be going the way they needed it to when they woke up. Feyh was still asleep when they woke and no one seemed the wiser. They paid off the man who had watched over them, left Feyh in the sauna and vanished. By the time they had delivered the information to their client, he now knew exactly how to prove that his half brother was selling the heirlooms, and by the time they got back to the warehouse to clean everything up, Arthur was more or less himself again. His hand ached and he wanted nothing more than to demand an explanation from Cobb but he could not make himself do it.

“It was good working with you,” Debra said and she offered a hand.

“Likewise,” Arthur replied. “Perhaps we'll work together again someday?”

“I'd like that,” she replied and smiled. She said her goodbyes to Cobb and Eames as well before vanishing. Arthur decided that he would keep an eye on the architect, just in case, because it was always hard to find people who were genuinely good at their job.

“I have some things I need to take care of,” Cobb said and Arthur watched him. “Always good to see you again, Eames, and I'll call you later to let you know what our next step is Arthur.” The extractor did not wait for a response from either man, he just walked out the door without another word.

“He can be such an ass,” Eames said and Arthur made a wordless sound of agreement. He watched Eames out of the corner of his eye as the forger gathered his things from his work area and it was too much. Arthur was sick of waiting, sick of interruptions, so he stood up and shoved Eames against a wall roughly. “Little forward there, aren't you, darling?”

“Don't call me that and I'm sick of being subtle,” Arthur replied and he pushed his body against the forger’s. “I believe we have something we need to finish.”

“That we do,” Eames said and he spun them around so Arthur had his back to the wall. The point man could feel that he was being watched very carefully but Eames kept distance between them and he just did not understand what was going on.

“What are you waiting for?” Arthur asked and when he reached for the forger his hands were pushed away. “What the hell, Eames?”

“You really want this even sober, don't you.” Eames was not asking a question, he was stating a fact and Arthur still had no idea what was going on.

“I thought me pinning you to the wall would be indication enough. What are you waiting for?” Arthur asked again.

“Huh, interesting,” Eames said and he took a step back from Arthur.

“What the fuck--”

“That's all I need to know,” the forger said. “I told you, Arthur; I'm all about the chase and I caught you so now it's time to move on.” Eames sounded serious, he sounded completely emotionless and all Arthur could do was stare at him with his mouth hanging open.

“Then everything--”

“--was leading up to this, yes. All of it.” Eames was looking directly into Arthur's eyes and he shifted his bag of belongings over his shoulder. “I caught you, Arthur, so now I'm bored. I trust you of all people won't let this affect our work relationship.” Without another word Eames turned on his heels and left Arthur standing in the middle of the warehouse, alone.

At first Arthur thought that Eames was just messing with him but when he found out the forger was halfway around the world by the time the checks cleared, it hit him. For two weeks Arthur went from being hurt, to insulted, to bitter, to apathy. It put perspective on everything and he just did not care anymore. He did not miss his friendship with Eames because it hadn’t been real. He did not miss the banter because now the words took on an entirely different meaning. He could not miss something that had never existed in the first place.

The Cobol job came and failed thanks to Mal. Cobb was still in denial and Arthur was so jaded to the pain that he hardly flinched when he woke up. Now they were plotting inception and Arthur was not sure who was crazier: Saito for hiring them and thinking it was possible, Cobb for agreeing to do it and then insisting that it really was possible, or himself for not running for the fucking hills. So he was not surprised to find out that Eames was going to be on the job. He was indifferent to the entire matter even when the forger showed up like nothing had ever happened between them. And he could kick himself for falling back into their routine, flirting back without meaning to, responding to the teasing, like he had forgotten everything that had happened.

_Security’s going to run you down hard._

_And I will lead them on a merry chase._

_Just be back before the kick._

_Go to sleep, Mr. Eames._

Arthur watched Cobb go through security a free man. He had to wonder if he was ever going to hear from the extractor again, if he was ever going to get a proper explanation for what had happened with Mal and in limbo but in the end he was fairly sure he would not. Ariadne knew and he had a feeling she would not tell him either. He had just said goodbye to her, she kissed his cheek but she seemed to know that their kiss on the second level was impulse and not governed by actual romantic feelings. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eames join him at the baggage claim.

“Do you think the idea took?” Arthur asked without looking at the forger.

“I believe so but this is really a 'time will tell' kind of arrangement,” Eames said and he shifted on his feet. “Was good working with you again, Arthur.”

“Professional relationship and everything,” Arthur replied and he still did not look at Eames. The job was done so he saw no reason to continue said 'professional relationship' when they weren’t working.

“About that, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go get a drink with me, maybe some food. I need to talk to you,” Eames said. Arthur could not help himself; he laughed.

“I don't think so, Mr. Eames. We've already been down this road and I don't want anything to do with it anymore.” Arthur turned and looked at the man in front of him. He wore that all too familiar intense expression but the point man did not let it get to him. “Try to stay out of trouble.” Without waiting for a response Arthur turned and walked out to the curb. He grabbed a taxi and in the mirror he thought he saw Eames watching him but he could not be sure.

Arthur did not have an apartment in the Los Angeles area but he was in no hurry to get back on a plane. He checked into a nice hotel downtown, planned on sleeping for a full day and then heading back to the East Coast to his own apartment on Long Island. Arthur collapsed on the bed and closed his eyes; he had felt exhaustion after jobs before but this one felt so much worse. Between the two levels he was on and the plane ride he had run a full marathon on two minutes of sleep. Arthur barely managed to kick off his shoes and take off his jacket before falling into a deep sleep.

The sound of someone knocking on his door woke the point man up. Arthur was not sure how long he had slept but the sun was beginning to go down. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it out, before walking over to the door. Whoever was there had the peep hole covered and dear god he was not in the mood to deal with this. Digging through his bag he found a switch blade and hoped he would not get blood on his shirt. Arthur opened the door and blinked back surprise when he saw Eames standing in front of him.

“You're lucky I didn't put a knife in your gut. What are you doing here?” Arthur asked.

“I said I needed to talk to you so I decided on the more direct approach,” Eames said. “Can I come in?”

“You're just going to stand out here waiting until I let you in, aren't you,” Arthur deadpanned and the forger flashed a brilliant smile.

“You know me too well,” he said and the point man opened the door wider.

“Except I really don't,” Arthur said after he closed the door, leaning heavily against it. “What do you want?”

“Would you believe I'm here to apologize?” Eames asked and Arthur cocked an eyebrow. “I didn't think so but I am. What I did on the Feyh job was low even for the standards of a criminal. I don't have any excuse for why I did it, I just did, and I regretted it as soon as I realized what I had just thrown away.”

“And what was that?” Arthur asked.

“A friend. I don't have very many of those, work acquaintances and what not, but no one I can really trust. What we had worked, and it worked really well and I was such a bloody idiot to throw that away. So I'm here because you are, were, my friend and I want my friend back. So, I'm sorry, Arthur, for being a massive asshole.” Arthur stared at the man in front of him, who was not cracking any jokes or calling him pet names or anything else.

“That's your apology?” he asked.

“Um, yes?” Eames said and he looked a little nervous.

“And what about everything else? What about the fact that you've been trying to get me in bed with you for two years? What does that all mean?” Arthur asked and the forger shrugged.

“It doesn't matter. I don't care if I never sleep with you but I wouldn't mind having someone I trust to go have a drink with sometimes,” Eames said and Arthur studied the man in front of him. He wondered if this was some sort of con, if Eames was trying to pull something, but his face was not blank. He was not wearing that poker face of his or hiding behind a smirk; he was being honest. And Arthur knew that if there was anyone in the world that could fake honesty it would be Eames; he did not want to believe that he would sink that low.

Two years, he had known this man for two years, and all Arthur could think about was the first time they had kissed. How Eames was close to bleeding out, how even with the blood loss and painkillers how he had insisted on stitching Arthur up as well, at the jagged scar on his arm from that encounter. He thought about how Eames had stayed with him while he was recovering from the Burk job and how he had not needed to stay. He thought about how Eames had kissed each and every one of the scars that lined his back from his childhood and said that he was stronger from them not weaker. Arthur stared at the man in front of him that he in no way understood. He thought about those flips that his stomach did when their hands brushed or how those lips felt against his the half dozen times they had kissed. He thought about how hard it must have been for Eames to admit and possibly accept that they were never going to be anything other than friends if that at all.

And as he stood there Arthur managed to admit and accept that he did not want just friendship from Eames.

Arthur took three steps forward, closed the distance between the two of them and, before Eames could say or do anything, slotted their mouths together. Eames made a surprised noise but kissed Arthur back greedily. Arthur bunched Eames' shirt in his fists and there were hands on his hips. He did not break their kiss until he was sure one of them was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. Arthur tried to calm his breathing as he took a step back from Eames. The forger stared at him with wide eyes and lips swollen and bruised from kissing.

“I was not expecting that,” Eames managed to say.

“Yeah, well, I'm feeling generous,” Arthur said.

“Does this mean I'm forgiven?” Eames asked and Arthur moved in close again. He put his hand on Eames' chest and eased him back until the forger was backed against the bed and rendering Eames speechless was worth it by itself.

“It means you're on your way to me trusting you,” Arthur said and he climbed over Eames to look down at him.

“Again?” Eames asked as Arthur leaned over him.

“That would imply that I was stupid enough to trust you to begin with,” Arthur said with a smirk just over the forger’s lips.

“You wound me, darling,” Eames said but he was smiling.

“Don't call me that,” Arthur said and they were kissing again. Eames’ hands were on his thighs and Arthur went to work on the buttons of the forger’s shirt. Only when he got the fabric pulled away did he begin to explore Eames' chest. He ran his tongue over those tattoos, bit his collarbone, kissed his neck and loved every little noise he was able to make Eames make. He ran his tongue along the white scar tissues made by the bullet wound during their first job together. After making a decent set of bruises Arthur sat back up and began to unbutton his shirt. Eames did not seem too keen on keeping his hands to himself and he yanked the point man back down for a rough kiss as they both made short work of the shirt. Eames rolled them over and pinned Arthur down on the bed so they were staring at each other.

“You know this isn't why I came here, right?” he asked and Arthur noted how wrecked he sounded just from a vigorous make out session.

“Naturally, but considering you're on my shit list right now, I'm the one calling the shots,” Arthur replied smirking.

“Clearly,” Eames said grinning. “Now where were we?” Arthur reached down and cupped Eames through his pants which made the forger groan.

“Right here I think,” Arthur said and they were kissing again. Just like the last time they were in this position all semblance of control got thrown out the window and they both fumbled with buttons and belts, trying to get the other’s pants off. By the time the constricting fabrics were shed Eames wasted no time removing Arthur's boxer briefs and taking him into his mouth. Arthur clenched the sheets in white knuckled fists as he tried to make coherent thoughts form in his mind. He tried to tell Eames that they were dreadfully unprepared for this, that he really had no idea what he was doing when it came to any of this, but it all became incoherent noises as the forger worked him over with his tongue. A hot coil settled in his stomach and the edges of his vision went white as he came.

It took a moment for his brain to start working properly again but when it did he was looking at Eames who looked far too smug right now. Again, Arthur was fairly sure that Eames was going to make some sort of smart remark but he shut the forger up with his tongue. The kiss was all tongues and teeth and Eames made a noise in the back of his throat when Arthur slipped a hand into his boxers and started to stroke him. Someone said 'oh fuck' but Arthur was not sure who. After a few strokes Arthur bit down on Eames' lip hard enough that he groaned loudly and came in Arthur's hand.

Arthur fell back and grabbed some tissues from the bedside, handing a few to Eames. They cleaned themselves off and Arthur tossed the tissues toward the garbage can but he really did not care if they ended up just lying on the floor. He lay with his head resting on Eames' shoulder trying to regain his breath. The forger's fingers traced designs on his shoulder.

“If you ever pull a repeat of the Feyh job I’m shooting you in the nuts,” Arthur said finally breaking the silence and he felt Eames chuckle.

“Noted,” he said. “Are you taking some time off?”

“Yes, I was thinking of going back to Long Island for a while,” Arthur replied and he hesitated. “You should come with. The south shore is actually quite nice and there are some fabulous wineries on the east end of the island.”

“Sounds great,” Eames said and it sounded like he did not even need to think about it which puzzled Arthur. He expected there to be some sort of awkward silence while he waited with baited breath to see if Eames would actually want to spend more time with him. Arthur moved so he was looking into the forger's eyes, so they were only inches apart and watched him carefully. He was not sure what he was thinking even being here with Eames, for letting this man into his hotel room or even giving him the time of day but there was no denying that he enjoyed being around Eames more than being with most other people. He was not going to lie to himself and say that no one deserved to be forgiven for past deeds. Cobb for example was nowhere close to being forgiven for all of the shit he had pulled before and during the Fischer job, though someday he would be, but Eames was here with him right now, agreeing to go to wineries with him without a second thought. “Do you not want me to come?”

“What? I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't, you idiot,” Arthur replied and he closed his eyes despite the nap he had taken before. Eames kissed him and they both settled down in the bed, arms wrapped around each other. Arthur was not going to let Eames try and run off this time no matter what the forger might say in the future. Eames was the one who was caught this time and Arthur had no intention of letting him go.


End file.
